so cold and wet all day today, shooting outside in a monsoon with only a 10 ft. pop up tent, tied with silks soaking against the rain. someone tripped on the tether, breaking the camera. my hands were so red and cold i felt i was having an out of body experience plugging and unplugging and restarting as water lashed around me. finally made it through the whole day without feeling my toes once or sitting down once - not even to eat. but made it through we did and eat we did at some fancy persian restaurant in north beach. the pomegranate chicken was my favorite. the a.d. who is apparently a kentucky boy, got drunk quickly and told stories about
a. a boy who he grew up with who was born without an asshole.
b. bobby bryant; another boy he grew up with who could pee amazingly far, fucked his grandma, and lost his trailer in a meth mishap. we listened to these stories over ice cream made with roses and pistachios. somewhere in all this lies the reason i love doing what i do - i'm just not really sure what it is.
i do remember standing in the shower this morning at 4:20 am thinking ' i'm so lucky after all this time and all these shoots, adventures and years i still get to go to a photoshoot this morning and not to an office.'
"STOP! DON'T MOVE! PLEASE! Take a picture of whatever is in front of you, send it to me then forward this message and see what random pics you get!"
and there you go....... manville. i only forwarded this text to a two people, they both happened to be in nyc. their responses made me happy. i pictured them, two little specks in that brilliant city, smoking pot and drawing bugs. respectively.
this weekend after finishing a really, really intense yoga class we were all lying in sweaty puddles of shivasana and rusty said, "if you have a child, or if you were a child, try to imagine the feeling of complete calm and happiness that you'd like to give to that child.... and then give that to yourself."
i was stunned with that thought. i never do that. i've never treated myself like a child, even when i was a child.
no one had a perfect childhood, they say. the things that happen in your childhood stick with you, is another thing they say. everyone has their own cross to bear. daddy issues. mother issues. complexes of all sorts with amazing greek names. whatever, they say alot of things. what it seems to come down to is that you could conceivably spend much of your adult life dealing with the events and occurences of your childhood, especially the traumatic ones.
there are so many ways to deal with life. you can run from it. you can hide. you can drink and use drugs. you can count calories. or over-consume them. you can look for what you're missing in other people. you can make masterpieces. you can worry. you can obsessively worry. you can seek to control. you can seek therapy. you can get medicated. you can meditate. you can vow to do better with your kids. you can join groups and churches. you can live a life dedicated to service. you can become a freakin martyr. people do these things.
but whether you're aware of it or not. you're dealing with it. oh yes. you are.
but you're a grown up now right? at least a part of you. maybe you've been a grown up for so long you forgot about the hurt little kid part of you. without sounding schizo or cheesy here -and not to be unoriginal...
when you are feeling sad, or lonely, or hurt, or afraid, or tormented, or tired, or worried, or you are wishing for some mercy, maybe you should think of the calm and happiness you wish someone had given that 5, or 8, or 12 year old...
and then give it. to yourself.
you might cry. but that's ok. that's just the part of you that's 5.
i lost my camera battery charger thus i have no camera.
when we were evolving into the dexterous little beings that we've become, no one had any idea how delightfully useful all our digits would be for holding a cellphone, an ipod, car keys and credit cards all in one hand.
experienced actress/model available to play the distressed victim in your upcoming horror film/photo shoot. skills include screaming, crying, running, falling, dying, and wide-eyed terror. references available upon request.
i love you so much. i don't know how i lived before you. i love you so much i want to put you in every dish i cook. never again will i cook brussel sprouts without you. i love you so much i continue to eat you even though steph says that pork is karmically the closest to human flesh or some such noise. i don't care - i will eat you even though it makes me a karmic cannibal.